Tell It To My Heart
by MarblePlum
Summary: At the retreat that changes everything, Brandon and Kelly confront new feelings they've never had before. Slight variation of the episode "Changing Partners". Two-parter.
1. Chapter 1

**Tell It To My Heart**

Hey there! Though I've attempted to do a 90210 fic, I've never done a BH 90210 fic, which I think is a bit odd. So I've decided to do a two-part Brelly (Brandon/Kelly) fic for Valentine's. I'm such a huge fan of theirs. It broke my heart when they didn't get married. For real. :P I don't know what the writers were thinking. I have no problem with Dylan/Kelly during the high school years, but I really wish they permanently called it quits during the later years. Plus, Dylan/Brenda was amazing. :D

Anyways, this fic takes place during that fated weekend retreat, when Brandon's on the task force and decides to ask Dylan and Kelly if he can "borrow" Kelly so she can be his fake girlfriend. While the writers did a wonderful job with this storyline, I'm going to try to go into more depth about what each of them was feeling. The chapters are going to be half Brandon and half Kelly POVs. It's mostly them, with some minor appeareances by everyone else, including Josh Richland and Clare Arnold. The first part takes place the night of the spring dance and the second part on the drive home. Best wishes, Nikki!

**Happy Valentine's Day!**

_I feel the night explode when we're together.  
Emotion overload in the heat of pleasure.  
Take me I'm yours into your arms.  
Never let me go.  
Tonight I really need to know._

_Tell it to my heart.  
Tell me I'm the only one.  
Is this really love or just a game?  
Tell it to my heart.  
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name._

_The passion's so complete. It's neverending.  
As long as I receive, the message you're sending.  
Body to body, soul to soul  
Always feel you near.  
So say the words I long to hear._

_Tell it to my heart.  
Tell me I'm the only one.  
Is this really love or just a game?  
Tell it to my heart.  
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name._

_Love, love on the run, breaking us down,  
Though we keep holding on.  
I don't want to lose, no I can't let you go._

_Tell it to my heart.  
Tell me I'm the only one.  
Is this really love or just a game?  
Tell it to my heart.  
I can feel my body rock every time you call my name._

_Tell it to my heart. Tell me from the start. Tell it to my heart.  
Tell it to my heart. Tell me from the start. Tell it to my heart.  
Never make it stop. Oh, take it to the heart._

_Tell it to my heart..._

**Tell It To My Heart is the property of Taylor Dayne.**

Surrounded by a turkey cut-out in overalls, tied up squares of hay, and furiously played fiddles, Brandon Walsh never felt more Midwestern. Who actually does this? Sure, when he pictures square dances, he sees tall hats, root beer floats, and kicked up heels, but being in the midst of it all is like stepping into another dimension, a dimension where he has to dance. He moved his feet where he was supposed to, listening to the called out instructions and the rhythm of shoes pounding the wooden floor. Still, it was no match for his skates crossing the ice of lakes in Minnesota or skiing down a snowy hill. Luckily, tonight, he doesn't have to dance alone.

Kelly Taylor's blonde ponytail bounces on her back and shifts across her neck as Josh Richland leads her across the room. Their promenade is going pretty fast so he knows he has to speed up to catch them. Nobody, especially Kelly, deserves this torture. As they come forward, he views Josh beaming and Kelly wincing.

"Getting in an extra dosey do, Richland?" calls Brandon, edging his way in between them as the entire floor veers right.

"She was tired of having someone stomp on her feet, Walsh," returns Josh.

"At least Brandon isn't cutting off my circulation," says Kelly, managing to unfurl Josh's grip on her waist.

"Oh....sorry," says Josh, backing away.

"Thanks," says Kelly.

"I'll just let you two.... 'lovebirds' enjoy the rest of the night," says Josh in a mocking tone.

"For us to enjoy it, you'd have to leave," provides Brandon.

He guides a smirking Kelly to a corner. This may be a guise, with Kelly acting as his cover so he can secretly be with Lucinda, but he's not ready to have it be announced on the front page of the _Condor _so the Chancellor can read it. He's so glad he's not working on the paper with scum like Richland. He'd rather be covering pee-wee hockey for some no name league in a Duluth daily for the rest of his life. In any case, it's not like Lucinda cared that Kelly was his pretend girlfriend. She hardly lifted her eyes from her book on Guatemalan architecture when Brandon finally left her house. It was becoming more and more of a pain to find time in his schedule to sneak off to her house, too. What with the Task Force, the writing of the proposal, and his own studies, he was tired by the time he got over there. They weren't even really talking anymore. It was all physical, which she liked. He misses the other half of a relationship. Well, a healthy relationship, anyway. Every couple hits a rough patch, though.

"I didn't think it was possible, but he's more annoying when he's in your face," groans Kelly.

"You don't have to tell me twice," agrees Brandon.

"Well_,_ _I _will tell you that you more than held your own when we were dancing," compliments Kelly.

"Look who's talking," says Brandon, then doing a Texan accent. "Why, Miss Kelly Taylor, I didn't know you knew how to allemande left."

"I can't spell allemande," laughs Kelly. "No, I just did what the other girls did."

"All that counts is that you do it well," affirms Brandon.

Kelly is definitely playing the part of his girlfriend well. It called for double the affection-- hand holding, pats on his knees, exchanging soft, subtle smiles. Having had quite a few girlfriends, he almost believes she _is _one of them sometimes. She let him walk arm in arm with her, or made sure to sit next to him during the retreat seminars, or came when she called to him. Then, a couple minutes would go by and the fuzzy face of Dylan McKay would form in his mind because Kelly was on loan from him. He hates to phrase it like that, as if Kelly were an object, but it was the running joke with the three of them. It essentially meant he'd have to return her safe and sound to Dylan. That he can do, with no problem. There shouldn't be a problem, right? They're close, as close as three friends can be.

"Hungry?" asks Kelly, nodding to the table.

"Starving," answers Brandon as he puts an arm around her shoulders.

She doesn't shirk back from his touch when they approach the picnic tables to the right of the room. Cups and plates were already in their places, helpings of barbecue chicken, ribs, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, rice pilaf, fish, and rolls on the tables. Brandon pats his stomach, makes a show of it. Kelly hits him softly in the gut.

"I'm one hundred percent sure Jim and Cindy taught you manners," murmurs Kelly.

"You should see me during Fourth of July picnics," says Brandon.

"I have," says Kelly, wrinkling her nose. "Which is why I know you're going straight for the corn on the cob."

He stalls his hand as he reaches for the platter with the corn. Kelly nods knowingly.

"Great intuition," remarks Brandon. "I'm a creature of habit, I must confess. You probably know Dylan's eating habits backwards and forwards too."

"No, Dylan's kind of...unpredictable," says Kelly, looking down and fidgeting with her skirt.

Brandon reaches for her glass and pours her some water.

"Which isn't always the best thing," sighs Kelly.

"Must keep the romance alive," offers Brandon politely.

"Yeah...that's it," murmurs Kelly, accepting the water.

There's a trace of sadness in her words, although perhaps he's searching for a trace of anything. He'd been noticing a bit of drifting for the two of them. Kelly seems more committed to her studies and Dylan was on an individual path he didn't want any of them to join him on, which Brandon understood on some level. People their age either stuck by their close high school friends or wanted to try new things and meet new people. For him, it's been a little of both. He likes interacting with others in different types of settings, yet he doesn't mind living at home with his parents. None of his friends had a problem with his living arrangements, and he came and went whenever he pleased. Plus, if those friends included Kelly, why trouble the waters? He is, like he said, a creature of habit. He wants certain people around. Brandon accepts the bowl of rolls Kelly hands him.

"What was your favorite seminar today?" asks Brandon, trying to change topics.

"Oh, they were all pretty interesting," replies Kelly. "I liked the one on starting education earlier for children. Like Erin, she's incredibly bright and she hasn't entered pre-school yet. We're discussing child psychology in one of my classes actually."

"Really?" says Brandon.

"Eh, you're not interested," waves off Kelly.

"I happen to be interested in whatever you're interested in," assures Brandon. "Why else would I let you get a word in edgewise with the Chancellor?"

They glance over at the Chancellor, taking a Polaroid with the cartoon turkey, Clare lowering her head in shame. Brandon and Kelly laugh.

"This'll be a trip we never forget," says Brandon as he takes a sip of water.

"I can say that with absolute certainty," says Kelly, raising her glass.

They clink cups and are suddenly interrupted by a huge sigh and Clare dropping into the chair next to Brandon's. Judging by Clare groping him during the dancing, he's thinking her placement is more than intentional. He'd steered clear of her for most of the day but Clare clearly made her presence known in these nighttimore hours.

"My dad's insane," says Clare.

"All dads have their cheesy moments," comforts Brandon.

"Moms, too," adds Kelly.

"Yeah, but theirs won't follow their kids to college," laments Clare. "The same college where their dad is the big cheese."

Wait, that statement meant....no. Brandon widens his eyes.

"You're going to California University?" asks Brandon.

"Depends," says Clare, eyeing him up and down.

Kelly clears her throat, but not without a smile. Brandon briefly elbows her.

"I hear there are amazing schools out East," offers Brandon. "And my sister Brenda...I mean, she ended up transferring, but she had great things to say about..."

"Relax, Brandon," says Clare. "You always look...so tense."

Clare sets her fork on her plate and begins to massage Brandon's shoulder. Her red nails glint under the lights of the cabin. Brandon rubs his forehead. It almost seems too soap opera-ish to be true. The underage, Chancellor's daughter likes the guy the Chancellor most likes?

Kelly rises resolutely. "I'm beat. Need someone to walk me to my room."

"Maybe Josh....," begins Clare.

"I was hoping for someone more chivalrous," says Kelly, grinning at Clare. "Brandon?"

"You guys haven't eaten..." says Clare.

"Grab a plate and go?" suggests Brandon.

"Right," says Kelly quickly. "See ya, roommate."

"Bye," sighs Clare.

They load their plates with enough room, wrapping them in aluminum foil, and Brandon tells Kelly he's getting them some napkins. Chancellor Arnold and a couple of his associates stand by the musician's stage where the desk with the napkins is located.

"Are you and Kelly having a good time, Brandon?" questions Chancellor Arnold.

"A wonderful time, sir," guarantees Brandon.

"Maybe next retreat, I could give your girlfriend a twirl around the floor," jokes Chancellor Arnold.

Brandon's eyes stray to Kelly, smiling at him from the exit.

He grins. "I think she'd like that, sir."

II.

She suggested a walk. He immediately said yes. They set their food in her cabin and started off into the night. In the dark, you can see the golden marigolds swaying in the air, hear the waterfall trickling over the stones, and smell only the scents that come from the woods. Kelly recalls when their whole group went camping-- David, Donna, Andrea, Steve, Dylan, Brenda, her and Brandon. They had fun after all the stress, and she didn't have mixed feelings, which she has now. Everything was simple then.

Most of the complex feelings, she should have a name for. She thinks her knowledge of psychology should come in handy. Analyze the situation. She's known Brandon for over three years. Her best friend is his sister. Her boyfriend is Brandon's best friend. She and Brandon are friends. It's not that hard to list the reasons why she should feel guilty, but it's easy to be with him. Their conversations are sweet and surprising. He does nice things for her without her asking. He routinely asks if she's comfortable doing this, or anything. This is what it's always been like with him. So why, on this trip, are things different? Why, when he touches her, do her synapses go racing? The reason is not in her textbook.

"How do you think Rocky is?" asks Kelly, their feet crunching the twigs on the dirt path.

Donna, Jim, and Cindy were discussing Rocky before they left for the retreat. The stray dog wasn't the only topic of discussion, however. Brandon's parents weren't coy about their interest in why she was accompanying their son to events lately. She did her best to make it sound light-hearted. Her heart is heavy as a leaf sails past her ear.

"Knowing Bren, they've taken him to a first-rate vet," guesses Brandon.

"You Walshes have big hearts," says Kelly, which she has no trouble saying since it's the truth.

"Oh, yeah," kids Brandon. "We have a lot of love to give."

"I'm serious," insists Kelly. "You guys have made me and others feel right at home."

"You're practically family," says Brandon.

"Hence, the sister comment," sighs Kelly.

As much as she's joking about it, that comment still really stung. It stings more today than it did months ago, mostly because she's spent more time with him and didn't want to be another Brenda. Maybe that night was her fault. She came on too strong. All she truly remembers is being in her room, in her black dress with the white ruffles, convincing herself that she would stun Brandon Walsh as soon as he saw her. Instead, the Spring Dance was a bunch of awkwardness, with the top embarrassing moment being when Brandon said that he couldn't be with her because she was like a sister. Ugh, talk about the guy you couldn't get. She shoved the dress in the back of her closet and shoved any future for them into the far side of her memories. Kelly does wonder if their recent time together, during this first year of college, would lead him to answer that question in a different way.

"You reminded me of another thing I said," points out Brandon.

He stalls her, preventing her from walking. She turns to him and meets his blue eyes, his hair rustling a tad. Her own blue eyes fall to his mouth.

"I said that if we were perfect strangers, I'd be in love with you," reminds Brandon.

"Mmmm, yes, and it made you smile," says Kelly.

Brandon steps closer and her heart beats boldly under her blouse. She's afraid he might hear it. Kelly pretends to stare at an oak tree beyond him.

"I guess the jig's up tomorrow," says Brandon.

"The...the jig?" stammers Kelly.

"Us being...an us," explains Brandon. "There aren't any more Task Force commitments where we would have to pretend that we're committed."

"Oh," realizes Kelly aloud.

Yes, he'd go back to being with Lucinda in secret, and she'd go back to being with Dylan. Dylan would be distant, argumentative, and retreat into himself. Perhaps she was pushing Dylan funding Lucinda's film for _their _benefit moreso than hers. Then, they'd have at least one thing in common, supporting the project. Then again, Dylan could be so stubborn sometimes. She could see him turning Lucinda down flat. Brandon....he obviously didn't turn her down flat. Honestly, she had a hard time picturing them together. While they're both intelligent, more intelligent than her she believes, Lucinda was more unbound and new-age. With his upbringing, Brandon came across more traditional and honorable. It was part of the attraction.

No, there can't be an attraction. Kelly takes a deep breath and releases it. This is fake. This is all so fake. Brandon has someone and he's happy, or else he wouldn't try to save it by having her masquerade as his girlfriend. Heck, he was even calling her his girlfriend in front of that sneak Josh Richland. This is all some puffed up rouse to keep everyone quiet. Will her emotions remain quiet? They're strong and growing thicker, far more fuller than she expected.

They no longer stare at each other. Kelly awkwardly plays with the sleeve of her jacket.

"I'll miss teasing you the most," confesses Kelly.

"You were pretty good at it," chuckles Brandon.

"What will you miss about me the most?" asks Kelly. "Your faux girlfriend, that is?"

"That smile," replies Brandon. "Pretending it was only for me."

In most cases, those smiles were for him. Kelly shakes her head.

"I don't lie with my smiles," says Kelly.

"That's what I was hoping," says Brandon.

An owl hoots in the distance and they both stare in that direction.

"I sorta wish tomorrow wasn't coming," sighs Kelly, staring at a twig on the floor.

"Kel," says Brandon, putting an arm on her waist.

She likes it there. His fingers are gentle and his palm is smooth. Her throat grows dry.

"Brandon, I'm feeling things I'm not allowed to be feeling," whispers Kelly.

"I didn't know there were rules for feelings," points out Brandon, lifting her chin with his other hand.

"I also sorta hated Clare touching you," says Kelly, blushing.

"I wasn't a fan of it, either," says Brandon.

He smiles and strokes her waist tenderly. The smell of the marigolds fills her nose, like faint perfume. Water trickles and rushes across the stones, matching the loud cacophony of her beating heart. She doesn't want to leave this retreat, this spot.

"I have a boyfriend," breathes Kelly. "You have a girlfriend. And..."

"Whatever is going on, Kelly, would follow us right back to Beverly Hills," insists Brandon.

"Not if we don't act," whispers Kelly.

Brandon presses his palms against her cheeks. They feel good there. He's forcing her to look at him, confront whatever will follow them past the woods. She instinctively closes her eyes. This is too hard. This is what she wants.

"Would kissing you be acting?" whispers Brandon.

"Yes," replies Kelly, her eyes fluttering open.

"I'm not sure I can't," says Brandon. "If I did...it'd be real."

Kelly places her hands on either side of his jacket. His heart is drumming underneath like hers. She's not alone.

"You can," whispers Kelly.

Brandon nods and presses his lips against hers. Their lips move to match the speed of the waterfall, steady as each flowing stream. They shift their heads until the kiss is deeper and urgent. Kelly lets her body rest against his. His embrace is a warm blanket she can sink into, never desiring to get out of. He holds her in a careful clutch and her knees begin to buckle. This is more real than she's ready for. She delicately pushes him away and rubs her lips.

"Kelly," says Brandon. "I'm...sorry."

"Why'd it have to be so wonderful?" asks Kelly, more to herself.

"So, you...you felt it, too?" stammers Brandon.

"I'm...I'm not prepared to...I don't know what to say," sighs Kelly. "Or do."

Brandon stuffs his hands in his pockets. His eyes shine as much as the moonlight. Kelly hates that she notices it. She's gotta go, be away from him for a bit.

"Maybe I'll walk the rest of the way," says Kelly, going past him. "I'll walk myself."

"You sure?" calls Brandon from behind.

She looks back at him. There he is, Brandon Walsh, her friend. Still, the way his gaze searches her, and how he slumps his shoulders, and how he grins shyly, is new and more than friendly. He's more mysterious. She may not know him half as well as she thinks.

"I'm sure," replies Kelly.

"Good night, Kelly," says Brandon.

"Good night, Brandon," returns Kelly.

The cabin is a four minute hike and Kelly considers what happened in the woods the whole walk. Should she tell Dylan? How do you tell him something like that? Would Brandon tell Lucinda? The final question is the most odd, but nearly breaks her heart in half. When it's time to let him go, and the charade is over, will she be able to do it? Kelly considers the answer as she unlocks the cabin door, and hugs herself in the dark.


	2. Part Two

**Part II.**

**Catch the Wind is the property of Donovan.**

Bag tucked safely under his arm, Brandon boards the bus with a few slow steps. He didn't need to be on it to register that he's going home today. That was clear after the conversation that just happened. After the strange good-bye, and the subtle looks of guilt, why should he have expected anything different? Kelly thought it best that the charade should end and told him so this morning right after breakfast. He could barely piece the words together since he was so tired from getting no sleep last night. She said it was nice, that she had always wanted it, and that it couldn't happen again. Maybe he wasn't the reason he couldn't piece it together. Last night said a lot, too, and not just with words.

He spies Kelly in the middle of the vehicle. She is trying to stuff a carry-on into the overhead compartment. Her hair is in a neat golden braid and she's back in her professional clothes. She looks amazing. It is interesting to think of her in high school, with the red miniskirts and the revealing blouses, in comparison to her now, with the sharp dress suits and long floral skirts. Whatever she was wearing, she'd be going back to Dylan today. He confessed that he'd always desired to be with her too. That wouldn't keep her out of Dylan's arms. He sighs and starts down the aisle.

"Hey...Brandon!" whispers a familiar voice from the left.

Brandon turns to see Clare patting the seat next to her. Unbelievable. He saw her head off with her father a couple minutes ago.

"Sit," encourages Clare.

"Uh....where's your dad?" asks Brandon.

"Please," sighs Clare. "After the embarrassing stunts he pulled during what was to be a relaxing, possibly raunchy weekend, I told him to go ahead without me."

"Couldn't bare to be in a first-class limo with good old Dad, huh?" says Brandon.

"I'd rather be on the bus with people who watch MTV," answers Clare. "Specifically those with testosterone."

'That gives you a wide range of choices, then," provides Brandon, gesturing around the bus.

"Did I not say...raunchy, a few seconds ago?" says Clare, flashing him a smile.

"Um," says Brandon, shifting his gaze.

"Weekend's not technically over," sing-songs Clare, patting the seat once more.

"Ah!" yelps Kelly, shielding her face.

"Excuse me," says Brandon, returning Clare's smile. "I believe my girlfriend's being attacked by a bag."

Clare stares at Kelly from her seat. She grabs a magazine and shrugs.

"Looks like Balenciaga," mutters Clare.

Leaving her to do her own magazine shopping, Brandon approaches Kelly and manages to effortlessly lift the bag that is wedged between Kelly's chest and the headrest of the seat. He sets it into the compartment and closes it. Kelly massages her forehead and grins.

"Using the good ol' superego there," says Brandon.

"It's Sunday," laughs Kelly. "Don't throw psych terms at me. But, thank you."

"My apologies," says Brandon. "Are you sitting alone?"

"I guess not, if you're not sick of me," says Kelly.

They take their seats, Brandon letting Kelly have the window. He doesn't stare directly at her, only at her reflection in the glass. She is obviously thinking something, her head down. Everytime he tries to do the same the image of leaning into her and kissing her would trump his thoughts. He'd hate to be thinking this when Dylan's around. It was all supposed to be so harmless. Kelly would escort him to a few events, educational and a little stuffier than either one of them is used to, and then she would go home and be with her boyfriend. So not complicated. But why, when he hears the boyfriend, does he immediately picture himself? The line is more blurred, as bewildering as the whole situation is for the two of them. They can talk, and talk, and talk, though it didn't erase the kiss.

"So you must be glad to be rid of Josh Richland as your cabin mate," says Kelly after a long breath.

He wonders what was behind that breath, decides to keep things light anyway.

"Yes, we had a name for guys like him in Boy Scouts," says Brandon.

"Yeah?" prompts Kelly.

"Jerks," supplies Brandon.

Kelly chuckles. "Was it just his attitude, or was he messy or..."

"No," interjects Brandon. "I was a little cleaner than him. Better bathroom manners."

"Hmmm, well, the toilet seat is always up at the McKay residence," mumbles Kelly.

She clears her throat, and Brandon wagers that's an indication that she'd like to discuss the owner of that residence.

"I...I was thinking I should tell him," shares Kelly.

"Kel, I can't let you do that," insists Brandon. "No, I got you into this, and was the one who kissed..."

"It takes two to kiss, Brandon," notes Kelly.

"Yeah, it'd be pretty hard with one," kids Brandon.

Kelly playfully hits his shoulder, Brandon smiling. The bus driver hops on and gets behind the wheel. People wrestle anxiously, fiddling with the seatbelts or handrests, Brandon more anxious than any of them. He'd known Dylan for years and there were times when they were as close as brothers. Dylan saved his life on their camping trip two years ago. Brandon was standing on a rocky ledge, and slipped when he lost his footing. It was so scary having no control over where he landed. Once Kelly told him about their kiss, there'd be no control over what he would lose. He could even lose the both of them, which would be the most brutal blow. Kelly pats his hand.

"Let me," whispers Kelly. "Trust me...we've dealt with drama before. I'll do it at the right time."

Brandon presses his hands together. "I'm not sure if there _is _a right time."

She faces the window, her reflection more thoughtful than before. Once the bus starts its journey, he can feel the twists and turns under his body, every one of them.

II.

"What is this?" cries Nat. "Bringing foreign food into my place?"

Brandon apologetically holds up the aluminum foil-covered plate that he left in her room. Kelly managed to scarf down hers on the way down, when Brandon was asleep. The idea of him seeing her with barbeque sauce on her lips wasn't exactly thrilling to her. He had a habit of looking at her throughout the drive. She found it more calming than upsetting. If she was going through this, she wasn't going through it alone.

"Sorry, Nat," apologizes Brandon. "Know what? I'll take a Megaburger to go."

"With extra onions?" jabs Nat.

"Sure," says Brandon, with a pained grin. "I'm not kissing anybody tonight."

Without hesitating, she hopes that's the truth and catches herself. Ugh. No, it's only natural. Nat didn't have any clue about Lucinda. In fact, nobody did. There is a nagging part of her that wishes she were clueless too, believing that he is single. Kelly sets her bag on the center seat of the Peach Pit row of stools. It had gotten weird being the girlfriend of one of the owners. She loves the Pit, and that Dylan had a hand in saving it, but it demanded a lot of time from him. Nat started to let her go to the backroom just so she could get a conversation going with him.

"Burger in a box," announces Nat, handing Brandon his order.

"Swanky service," says Brandon.

"Nothing beats my permanent employee of the month," says Nat, nodding to Brandon Walsh's framed shirt on the opposite wall.

"I think that's some subtle hint," kids Kelly, elbowing Brandon.

"Hey, if it were up to me I'd be up to my ears in tuna melts instead of Task Force initiatives, but the Chancellor has other ideas," says Brandon.

"Eh, get outta here," says Nat, lightly hitting Brandon with a towel.

"What's with all the hitting?" groans Brandon as he touches his waist.

"I'll get Dylan for you, Kelly," says Nat.

"Thanks," says Kelly.

Nat disappears through the side door and Kelly sits on the stool next to her bag. Brandon takes his time shouldering his luggage and food containers. He seems pretty hesitant to go. It's sweet and maybe a little necessary. He should really get a move on, however. She knows his parents are expecting him, and he was nice enough to drop her off here once the bus reached campus.

"I'll be fine," assures Kelly.

"Mind if I come by the beach house later?" says Brandon. "Check on you?"

"That'd be okay," says Kelly.

And that's mainly because she wouldn't mind seeing him again. Kelly fiddles with the blouse of her suit. There's an ache near where her necklace is hanging. It may be because the shirt is too tight or because her heart is anticipating what's coming. She knows the suit fits well so it must be the second reason.

"We'll always have the woods," jokes Brandon.

Kelly nods and smiles, watches him go through the Peach Pit entrance and out of sight. She winds the necklace around her wrist. Dylan appears, pen raised above a writing pad. He smirks when he raises his eyes. She can't return the smirk. It's too awkward. She tries, a bit.

"What'll you have?" asks Dylan.

"My boyfriend, who I missed a whole lot," replies Kelly.

Dylan comes to the other side of the bar and hugs her to him, kissing the side of her head. He accidentally kisses her earring with the second brush of his lips. That brings a small amount of lightness to how she feels, which she's thankful for.

"So Brandon dumped you, huh?" says Dylan, Kelly still in his hold.

"Mmmm," murmurs Kelly. "Something like that."

Dylan releases her and Kelly breathes deeply. Maybe if she starts at another point, and gets to the real point, things will get easier. Oh, she hasn't asked about the film yet. That could be a start.

"How'd the meeting with Lucinda go?" asks Kelly.

He rubs his temple, never a good sign. Kelly fidgets with her blouse.

"That's not a project I'm digging, Kel," admits Dylan.

"Surprise, surprise," says Kelly, sarcastically.

"Look, I'm being honest with you, okay?" says Dylan.

"Allow me to do the same," returns Kelly. "I admire this woman, and you funding her film would open so many doors for her."

Despite what she and Brandon did during the retreat, and despite the fact that she believes that Dylan isn't being completely honest with her regarding the meeting, she did admire Lucinda. Her film would expose so many people to a culture that didn't get the respect it deserved. Dylan could show her some respect by at least taking it seriously.

"Those are doors I don't want to open myself, alright?" says Dylan. "And I'm pretty sure that woman can bust down a few doors without my help."

"What's that supposed to mean?" cries Kelly, standing.

"Just that you should respect somebody with a little more integrity," answers Dylan, softly.

"Like you?" says Kelly. "That's hard to do when you, my own boyfriend, don't show any respect for _my_ opinions."

"That's hard to do when you don't care enough to stick around," argues Dylan.

"Excuse me?" exclaims Kelly.

"If you care so much about the stupid funding, why weren't you there with me?" says Dylan, loudly. "No, you were off hob-knobbing with Brandon and the so-called future leaders of the country!"

"Okay, is this really about the film or is it something else?" asks Kelly.

"I don't know," says Dylan, this time with a colder smirk. "You had the weekend of enlightenment with your pretend boyfriend. You tell me, Kelly."

Dylan says nothing else and pushes through the kitchen door. Kelly turns from side to side, noticing customers who have taken in their fight. This isn't the first moment where that's been the case. One woman gives her a sympathetic smile and resumes eating her salad.

It seems like their ideas are constantly clashing. Dylan wasn't into high school activities, or her sorority, and now her academic interests. He was always on some path by himself or intellectual soapbox he wouldn't let her join in on, and boy was it difficult to meet after all the dust had settled. Her original plan of telling him the details of the trip had totally escaped her. She grabs the handle of her bag and starts towards the door.

"Kelly!" she hears before she can leave.

She rolls her eyes and stays, almost hating that she does.

"I'm sorry," says Dylan, advancing to her. "I really am."

"Look, it's been a long day," sighs Kelly.

"Same here," says Dylan. "The Pit isn't as glorious from the other side. This place is keeping me on my toes, and I'm stressed."

Brandon handled working at the Pit with more grace, thinks Kelly. She could slap herself for that thought. She shouldn't be comparing them, no matter how upset she is with him.

"I'm tired," says Kelly.

What she's truly tired of is bickering with him or trying to get him to contribute or dealing with "sorry"s that don't solve the problems.

"Come by the house tonight," offers Kelly. "Maybe we'll both be less rattled by then."

"Can guarantee you that I will," says Dylan, giving her a small peck on the lips.

Kelly nods and leaves the Pit to go call David. He said he'd pick her up if they met at a mutual spot. Donna and Brenda were on campus, but David is practicing on his piano. Maybe a house full of music and not full of boyfriends, real or pretend, is the the thing she needs the most right now.

III.

"Come get it, Rocky!" coos Donna Martin, bending down. "Come get the toy, Rocky!"

"Donna, you've been asking him to get that plastic porkchop for the last ten minutes," says David Silver, checking his watch.

Donna rights herself and blows the blonde bangs from her face. Rocky stops considering the plastic piece of meat and bounds towards the screen door.

"Maybe he's vegetarian," jokes Andrea Zuckerman. "Or kosher."

Brandon smiles and unfurls his newspaper, hiding what he's been having to witness for more than the last ten minutes. Kelly sits in Dylan's lap, leisurely lacing her fingers through his. As he reads the news of wars in other countries, he tries to imagine why the scene is so happy beyond the printed pages. Did she not tell him? Did Dylan not resent him? He did ask Brandon about the retreat, what it was like, making it obvious that Kelly hadn't gone into great detail on the subject. He was saved from any other inquiries when Andrea arrived with Jesse and a rehabilitated Rocky. All the girls, including Kelly, were incapable of resisting man's best friend. And clearly, Kelly has resisted telling Dylan the truth.

"I'm not picky," sighs Donna. "I want pizza."

"Oh, do you have plain cheese?" asks his twin sister, Brenda.

The girls go into the kitchen, Andrea and Jesse in tow.

"Ah, I'm going to get some air," announces Kelly.

"Well, if you hear music, it's us," says David, happily going to the stereo and flicking it on.

He sets the paper on the table, and he can't say he's not happy to see Kelly disengage her body from his lap. Dylan stands, kisses her on the neck, and pats Brandon's shoulder before going with the others into the kitchen. Brandon watches Kelly wrap a pink shawl around her frame and open the side door. She leaves it open. Is this a cue or not? Brandon shoves his hands in his pockets, and Rocky, ahead of him, join her on the deck.

"I think somebody likes you," notes Brandon, looking at Rocky sniffing Kelly's feet.

"Not edible," she tells the dog.

"No, you're just irresistable," says Brandon as he sits in another chair.

"That's the second time you've said that today," says Kelly.

_In the chilly hours and minutes,  
Of uncertainty, I want to be,  
In the warm hold of your loving mind._

Her beauty calls for one more occasion of him saying that. He smiles at her. Her blonde locks wave in the wind and her blue eyes shine under the moonlight. He noticed the same features when he kissed her, and how soft her lips were against his own. But they were alone and far from the beach. The crashing waves pound against the sand and there were people walking along the gritty surface.

"You're not hungry?" says Kelly.

"No," answers Brandon simply.

After eating the retreat food, and the Megaburger, and the lasagna Cindy insisted he had to try, he is more than full. It seems like everyone wants to feed him.

"Brandon....I didn't," says Kelly, barely glancing at him. "This weekend's been...."

_To feel you all around me,  
And to take your hand, along the sand,  
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind._

Well, he didn't have to be on the Task Force to put two and two together. Should he ask why, though?

"You didn't," says Brandon, nodding.

"I wanted to, but we got in another fight," sighs Kelly.

Now he knows that he shouldn't ask. He only let her share when she wanted to share, and what's private is private. He wasn't one to dig into his friends' relationship issues unless they came looking, or if Brenda suddenly decides to have another shotgun wedding. The last thought keeps the smile on his face, even if he expects it to disappear.

"It's like....I'm either fighting, or fighting my feelings," says Kelly, staring at the ocean.

"And that's a fight in itself," wagers Brandon.

"Exactly," breathes Kelly.

Her eyes find him and she grins slightly. He can see the lines near her eyes, contributing them to worry and guilt. Half of him wishes it were guilt for him, for liking him when she shouldn't. That's what he's worried about as well. That said, he doesn't want any more lines to appear.

_When sundown pales the sky,  
I wanna hide a while, behind your smile,  
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find._

_For me to love you now,  
Would be the sweetest thing, 'twould make me sing,  
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind._

"I don't think that's fair to you, Kelly," says Brandon.

"What is fair?" whispers Kelly.

"We'll have to figure it out," says Brandon. "And it doesn't have to be tonight."

"But I don't regret the retreat," says Kelly.

"Neither do I," says Brandon. "But we do have commitments to others, and I...respect you enough that I won't put you in a situation that's hurting you."

"Brandon, I have to tell him," breathes Kelly, her eyes growing teary.

"You don't have to," whispers Brandon. "I'm not putting any pressure where there's already pressure, okay?"

Kelly sniffles. "Okay."

_When rain has hung the leaves with tears,  
I want you near, to kill my fears  
To help me to leave all my blues behind._

_For standin' in your heart,  
Is where I want to be, and I long to be,  
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind._

Brandon stands and holds out his arms. Kelly gets up, the shawl falling from her shoulders. She relaxes in the hug after a few seconds have gone by. He lets his nose graze her neck, something a friend can do without shame. Maybe this is all that is meant to be, and if there's more, it would come on its own. It wouldn't have to be a secret. They'd reach a day or a night where they wouldn't have to say anything, save for four words that would spring from his lips.

"I love you for that, Brandon," whispers Kelly, holding the back of his head.

"I love you too, Kel," whispers Brandon.

These are the four words he would say if if things were different, with a different meaning. Things are the same, Brandon clutching Kelly's hands to console her. They're the same because he's let her go.

Dylan and Brenda peep out of the screen door.

"Rocky, come here," scolds Brenda.

"You guys better come in and get some breadsticks," urges Dylan. "Apparently, Jesse Vasquez has never met a breadstick he didn't like."

"More sauce!" shouts Jesse.

Laughs come from the kitchen. Kelly and Brandon provide two more.

"Alright," says Kelly.

Dylan and Brenda exchange a smile and head inside. Rocky walks with them.

"I could use some comfort food," says Kelly to Brandon.

"Last one to the kitchen is Josh Richland's next square dance partner," says Brandon, rubbing Kelly's back as they enter.

Her laugh soothes him. This is a game that's been tough to play, more real than any other since it was with her. He'd at least walk away with something, a true prize, a friend.

**Hope you enjoyed the story! Thanks for the reviews! Nikki**


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